In Peace, Vigilance
by TheMightyZan
Summary: She saved Ferelden from the archdemon, but if she thought she was done, then she was sorely mistaken. Set in the same world as "An Understanding" and "I Found You", following the events of Awakenings. Following Lyna Mahariel's story, but told through Anders' POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and welcome! This is a direct sequel to "An Understanding", and a precursor to "I Found You" following the same Mahariel through the events of Awakenings. (Though it can probably be read on it's own, since it will follow the game pretty closely). This will actually be told through Anders point of view, starting in the next chapter, I just felt like the prologue needed to happen to establish where our elf couple were at. I did not like writing this part... sigh.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

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**_Prologue_**

**_6 months after defeat of Archdemon_**

_Zevran wasn't going to be happy._

_No. That was an understatement. He was probably going to be livid._

_She couldn't really blame him if he was, but then she also couldn't justify not doing what she was about to do._

_She stood outside the door of their room, the wooden expanse a physical barrier that perfectly mimicked what she was thinking in her head. She didn't want to cross it. Didn't want to have the fight that she knew was coming._

_He solved the issue for her by swinging the door open, and leaning casually against the frame, arms crossing leisurely over his chest._

_"You breathe very loudly, cariño."_

_She frowned at him, and pushed past into the room, her brows pulled tight over eyes that sought to look everywhere but actually at him. They landed on their packs, both half-filled for their upcoming trip to Antiva._

_She had told him she would go with him to settle things with the Crows, after they had started sniffing around for him again. She owed it to him after the months of help with the Blight, and the uncomplaining companionship in the months since._

_That was a lie. She owed it to him because she loved him, and yet here she was ready to push that aside._

_Taking a breath, she turned back to face him, feeling lower when she noticed his raised brow. He had shut the door, and stood expectantly in front of it._

_"How did your meeting with Alistair go?"_

_She huffed out a short laugh, and gave a shake of her head. She wished she had never gotten her friend's missive. Wished they had never detoured to the castle so she could check in with him. They would be on a boat to Antiva already if she hadn't. "There have been darkspawn sightings around the new warden stronghold in Amaranthine. They need a warden to go up there and take command of the new recruits from Orlais so that it can be properly investigated."_

_His face never faltered as he listened to her, though his voice was laced with amusement. "I am assuming they wish for you to do this." She nodded in agreement and settled onto the bed, legs tucking up and under as she looked away from him again. "Alistair put my name forward as the new Warden Commander of Vigil's Keep."_

_"Did you turn them down gently at least?"_

_The silence that followed was almost deafening. She didn't know how to reply to the lightly asked question. She didn't want to hear what would come after._

_She heard him shift and move closer to the bed, his chest coming into her view as he moved to look her in the eyes. "Lyna. You did turn them down, yes? We are bound for Antiva."_

_She sat another moment before looking up at him. "No. I… I couldn't."_

_A muscle twitched in his jaw before he laughed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, of course you would say that. So, what of the Crows then? Am I to go on my own?"_

_"No!" The word burst out and she started to stand, though the look he sent her stopped the upward motions. "No. We just need to wait a while. I don't have to stay in command for long, just long enough to figure out about these attacks and the rumors that have been going around."_

_"Until the next thing happens, and you jump to fix that also." A statement that caused her to frown._

_"I am a grey warden, Zev, I can't just tell them no. I can't leave a job half finished."_

_"You aren't. Last time I checked you had slain the archdemon, yes? You stopped the Blight. That was the job and it is done."_

_"I have a duty to the order. It's an honor that I was even asked."_

_A hollow laugh had her looking away again, unwilling as ever to meet his gaze. "An honor. You don't like being in charge."_

_"Sometimes we have to do things we don't like…" She trailed off a moment. "I have to at least look into it for Alistair."_

_"Alistair is the king, and a grey warden besides. Why does he need you to fight his battles for him?"_

_"He's busy enough as it is. I can't leave my friend so overwhelmed."_

_He snorted and moved to the fireplace in the room, his back turning to her. "Oh yes, we can't disappoint our dear king. What would he do without you?"_

_She didn't have an answer for that, well aware that anything she might say would end up demeaning either Alistair or Zevran or both._

_She settled for the obvious undertone._

_"This isn't about Alistair; it's about doing my job."_

_He simply turned to look at her, his expression unimpressed. "For someone who has spent the better part of a year preaching at me about the importance of being free to live my own life, you are doing a remarkable job of exemplifying the opposite."_

_"It's not the same."_

_"Yes it is."_

_They sat in awkward silence a moment, nether wanting to further the conversation and her twice the coward for not being able to tell him he was wrong. Finally Zevran moved to the bags, his tone turning deceptively light, a sharp sweetness that immediately put her on edge. "I am reminded of this one evening in Antiva city… not long before I came to Ferelden."_

_She frowned at the sudden change in topic but held her tongue as he continued. "I was working with another Crow, a rather buxom human lass with the roundest posterior that you had ever laid eyes upon." He paused a moment, and began lifting things into his travel pack at an almost leisurely pace. "But I digress. We had been flirting for hours while waiting for a mark to come home, and I was beginning to find her tiresome. And then," he looked up at her with a sly smile that was a perfect imitation of the one that Taliesin had sent her in the Denerim alley before continuing, "the lass up and vomited upon my good leather shoes."_

_She scowled at him, her frown deepening as she watched him lift things into the bag. "What does this have to do with anything?"_

_"Oh trust me, it has plenty to do with it," he said in a low voice, smile dropping only a moment before returning in force. "I turned to the lass and said, 'Thank the Maker, I thought it was just me.'" He laughed at that, a harsh sound that grated against her ears even as he tied the flap of his pack into place._

_"That's the story?"_

_He settled his hands on his bag and glanced sideways at the fire again. "Better warned then in too deep." He frowned only a moment before rolling a shrug, and turning back to her. "But what do I know. Sometimes these things fly right over my head." Picking up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he stared at her intently before speaking again, perhaps waiting for her own words which didn't come. "I am going to Antiva; I still have things that I need to settle, whether you are there or not. Perhaps we will meet up again when you have the time for it."_

_She felt her stomach drop onto the bed where she sat, and she floundered a moment with the implications of what he had just said. "You're simply leaving then?"_

_"Yes."_

_Panic set in before she could think about it, and she was on her feet even before he had turned to move to the door. "We are a far site further away from the Black City now then we were six months ago."_

_He turned backed to her that damned smile still in place. "Perhaps I have decided that the fight is not worth it. I am beginning to doubt that the prize is something I want."_

_"Well, the question of your loyalty is finally answered then."_

_His smile faltered for a moment, a single moment where they both stared at each other, words shouting in their minds that neither wanted to be the first to say, but then it was back and he shook his head in amusement. "There are many kinds of loyalty. Loyalty and promises and oaths, spoken and unspoken, brandished about as if they are important. They get broken all the time, yes? They don't matter. Even you have experience with that."_

_She simply stared at him, unable to put voice to arguing the things he said, because she knew it was true, and because she knew that to call him on his words of love now would be petty and cruel. She had known how this would end, and she wouldn't be the one to beg the other to stay._

_So instead she watched as he sent her a slight bow, his face falling as he turned away. "Farewell, Warden, and good luck."_


	2. Chapter 2

**From here on out the story is going to be from Ander's point of view. I always really liked his character in Origins, and I felt like mixing it up some by writing as someone other then Lyna.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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Fire was hot.

He knew this of course, he was no simpleton, but at the moment, with it shooting out of his fingers, he was reminded that it was not comfortable to have it in contact with his skin.

He watched as the creature in front of him became alight with flames, then tumble down into the pile of Templars and darkspawn at his feet before straightening and shaking his hands, willing the stinging to subside.

He gave a satisfied nod then turned to leave, running straight into a pair of fighters.

He started at the sight of them, taking a moment to look over his shoulder at the dead, and then back again. He knew that it probably didn't look good. He hadn't actually killed any of the men himself; tempting as it may have been, they were all too worried about the undead seeping in through the door. However, he was use to people expecting the worst out of mages.

"Er… I didn't do it." It came out lamely, and he heard himself continuing without really knowing why. "Oh, I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not broken up about them dying, if I'm being perfectly honest." He felt a laugh slip out as he glanced back again, a hand waving to indicate one of the fallen Templars. "Biff there made the funniest gurgle when he went down."

Why in the Maker's name was he still talking?

The pair was staring at him. The taller of the two, a lanky human in heavy armor, studied him with a scowl on her, just barely visible, face. She glanced down at the one closer to him as if waiting for her to speak first.

He focused his own attention on the smaller one, an elf, and a Dalish one at that, which was a surprise. She didn't share her companions scowl. Instead she studied him with open curiosity in her dark blue eyes, her heavily tattooed face thoughtful, and her fingers tapping lightly on the handles of her daggers. When she finally spoke, he almost thought she sounded amused.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

He blinked at the question, then offered an, only slightly, mocking bow. "I am Anders, at your service, mage and wanted apostate."

"An apostate? At Vigil's Keep?"

He turned his attention back to the human, and offered a crooked smile, raising his shoulders in an answering shrug. "You weren't here when we arrived," he stated before letting his smile widen, well use to knowing that flattery did indeed get you everywhere. "I'm sure I would have remembered such a lovely woman as yourself." He watched a blush bloom under the heavy armor of her helm, ignoring the snort the elf made to send her a wink before turning back to the bodies again. "We were just stopping here on our way back to the tower. Just a short rest, they said, and now their dead." He let out a small sigh and made to face the women again. "Such a shame."

He was very sure the smaller of the two rolled her eyes before shoving a hank of her golden brown hair out of her face. She studied him another moment, and he fought to not squirm under her gaze. It wasn't that it was harsh; it wasn't, if anything it was overly understanding, but something about the tilt of her head made him want to stand straighter and check that his robes were straight. It was disconcerting coming from what appeared to be little more than a girl. He wondered if she was even old enough to be conscripted to fight. Finally, she waved a hand, and readjusted her grip on her weapons, the bow hook to her shoulder rustling with the movement. "Look, I'm sure you could go on explaining everything in very great detail to us, but I don't think now is really the best time. Will you help us kill the rest of the darkspawn? I am hoping there are still more people alive also."

He caught himself blinking again, his mouth dropping open a moment in confusion. He wasn't use to people simply brushing off the apostate thing. Closing his mouth with a snap, he offered another smile. "Of course, my lady. I am at your disposal."

She snorted another laugh then beamed a smile at him, her face transforming with it. It put him at ease, and lessened the desire to brush the dirt from his hands. "I'm Lyna, this is Mhairi." She nodded to the woman, who had gone back to regarding him with a curious distrust. "Welcome aboard, Anders." She didn't wait for his reply, simply turned to head out a different door then they had entered.

They fought through the Keep at a steady pace, finding and sending out survivors as they could. He adapted quickly to the idea that he would need to do healing, and shouted as such to the elf after throwing a ward on her. Her laughing reply agreed.

She didn't fight like he expected her to. He had taken her for one of the Dalish scouts he had heard of, but she didn't stick to the shadows to pick off stragglers, and she only used her bow when they were able to take enemies by surprise. Instead she dove into the thick of them, daggers flashing, as if she could beat them back with sheer force of will alone.

Leather armor was not made for such acts. He had a feeling she was going to need a lot of healing.

They had paused a moment to catch their breaths, when the sound of fighting floated to them from down the hall they had recently entered. Anders figured that it was a good sign when he heard a battle roar, and hoped, not for the first time, that they might find someone to help them with the clearing out.

Lyna lead them into the room the noise was coming from, and drew up short when the husk of a creature splattered into the wall beside them. In the center of the room a red headed dwarf swung a two handed axe in a wide arch, connecting with, and throwing darkspawn in its wake.

"Oghren!" The name was shouted from Lyna, and Anders watched in amused fascination as the dwarf turned to offer an almost gleeful wave of his hand in their direction before gripping his axe again, and giving another swing.

Between the four of them, the room was cleared quickly, and Anders was surprised to see Lyna dart forward and wrap her arms around the dwarf in a quick, excited hug.

He pulled back to grip her shoulders, a wide smile crossing his face. "There you are. When these darkspawn showed up, I thought, 'just you wait until the new commander gets here and you'll all be spitting teeth out of your arses.'" He thumped her on the shoulder, causing her to stagger a moment. "Followed the screaming, and sure enough, here you are. Good on ya, warden!"

Anders felt like an idiot. He should have realized who she was he supposed, everyone knew of the Dalish Hero of Ferelden, who had taken up the mantle of Warden Commander to help finish off the remaining darkspawn.

Lyna flashed her own smile and leaned down the scant few inches that separated them to bump his forehead lightly with her own before stepping back to encompass the others. "Oghren. You're here?"

"Doubting your eyes, lass? I get like that too, after the fifth bottle or so."

Lyna simply shook her head and laughed, letting him continue. "I came here thinking I might try my hand at becoming a bona fide Grey Warden."

"He was here when I left. I can't believe the Wardens didn't kick him out."

Anders heard the disgust in Mhairi's voice, and glanced over to her. The scowl was back in place, though it was deeper, and more annoyed then before. Oghren glanced over and sent her what could only be described as a lecherous grin. "Hey! If it isn't the recruit with the great rack."

Mhairi's brows lowered further over her eyes, the dark lines of them becoming visible under the slash of her helm. "Yes. A prize for the Warden's to be sure."

Anders laughed even as the dwarf replied, amused at the easy way in which he got under the warrior's skin. It took him a moment to realize attention had focused on himself.

"…Boyfriend? Should I leave the two of you alone?" He waggled bright bushy eyebrows at Mhairi, and chuckled when she let out a disgusted sigh.

Noting that Lyna was simply standing slightly off to the side, apparently content to let the conversation go as it would, Anders spoke up himself. "Wow. A dwarf that smells like a brewery. You almost never see that anywhere."

Lyna let out a bright laugh at the statement, and shot Oghren a look where he stood a moment, before joining in with his own. "Heh. A mage comedian. I thought they always died young."

She shook her head, and offered her own clap on his back. "It's good to see you, friend."

"I find that hard to believe." The words were mumbled in a hush whisper under Mhairi's breath, and Anders bit back the smile they invoked.

The elf and dwarf were already moving off, and the humans fell into step behind them, Oghren's words drifting back as they turned down a new hall. "Let's go introduce some darkspawn arses to my foot."

Lyna merely smiled, and looked back to the others with a shrug, her expression one of amused reasoning. "Seems like the only polite thing to do."


	3. Chapter 3

**There is a LOT of cutscenes at the beginning of this game... just thought I would share.**

**Not much to say today so I will stick with the ever simple, "Enjoy!"**

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They all stood in an uneasy circle around the dying man, Mhairi kneeling before him, while shouting at Anders and the dwarf to stop making light of the matter.

It wasn't that he didn't realize the horror of watching a comrade die, but when there was nothing that could be done for him, there was little else to say.

He had to laugh; otherwise it would be too depressing to think about.

Even as that thought crossed his mind, the man rolled his head to the side to stare at them, his glazed over eyes falling on the small form of Lyna. "The… the Commander?"

Lyna, who had been standing silently, took a knee beside him. Anders watched as she reached forward and lifted one of the man's bloody hands in her own, her face grave as she met his eye. "I'm here, Rowland. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." There was genuine regret in her voice, and Anders had to respect the fact that she didn't try to bolster the man about his odds.

"We only had a moments warning before they were on us, Commander." Rowland coughed harshly, his hand spasming in the Commander's, causing it to tighten in comfort. "The seneschal ordered a counter-attack, but they came out of nowhere." Another pause and Lyna leaned forward, her free hand moving to help him shift to a more comfortable position. "There is one with them… a darkspawn who talks… and his magic is powerful."

Anders heard Oghren let out a huff, his head shaking. "Talking darkspawn, the lad is probably delirious."

Before anyone could respond the dying man let out an agonized moan, his hand flexing again, then gripping Lyna's until her fingers turned a stark white. "There's something in my blood. It hurts!"

Lyna was frowning thoughtfully, seeming not to notice her hand. Instead she returned his grip in equal measure. "I know it hurts, Rowland, but I need to know where the talking darkspawn is."

Rowland's head rolled to the other side, till his face was pointed toward the far door. 'He went… that way… after the seneschal…" He made a strangled gurgle, his irises disappearing into his head, before collapsing limply between the two women. While Lyna settled his hand onto his lap, Mhairi bowed her head, speaking softly. "I will avenge you Rowland, I swear it."

The mood of the group was grim as they made their way out onto the battlements of the Keep, drawn to the sounds of talking that drifted from the main walk. As they rounded the corner to the front they were just in time to see a strangely straight standing, and full armored darkspawn kick a man off the edge, and onto the spikes below.

Even as the other three rushed forward, drawing short when they noted the man on his knees in front of yet another creature, Anders was pulling out his staff, and taking point behind them.

It was going to end in a fight. It always ended in a fight.

The man on his knees was speaking, voice muffled by the blade at his throat. "Others will come, creature. They will stop you."

"Oh, well, that's true," Lyna said conversationally, switching her daggers for her bow, and training an arrow on the darkspawn holding the sword. The other spun to face them, a grim smile on its fleshless face. "It seems your words be true. More than you are guessing."

"It is talking." Anders let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, and was rewarded with a bland look from Mhairi, and an answering laugh from Oghren, who added, "Well, let's shut it up already then."

The kneeling man made some noise, that might have been a word, but they all kept their gaze on the speaking abomination. They watched as it assessed them, and then turned to speak to its companion. "Capture the Grey Warden. These others, they may be killed."

Anders watched as Lyna smiled, amused again despite everything, and loosed her arrow into the neck of the sword wielder.

The fight was fast, the whole group tired, and rushed to finish it once and for all.

When the talker finally fell, Anders wasted no time in casting a healing wave at the man who had been captured, even as Oghren moved to give him a helping hand up.

He gave a cough and glanced over all of them before settling on where Lyna was pulling her arrows out, and wiping them on her armor before placing them back in her quiver. "Thank you, Commander, you saved my life."

"It's what I do."

Normally Anders would laugh at the joke, but she had said it so simply, and in such an offhanded tone that he realized she wasn't trying to be funny.

The man moved to the edge of the walk and peered down through the rain to the main gate, where a crowd of survivors were milling uneasily, then up to the road. "Hmm. Soldiers on the road. It seems we have more company. Hopefully they are more hospitable than our previous guests."

Lyna moved up beside him to stare out herself. After a moment a smile lit her face, and she reached up to clap a hand on his shoulder. "That they are. Come on." The last part was said to the group as a whole, though she didn't wait to see if the followed before disappearing back inside.

By the time Anders made it down to the front gate, Mhairi and the man were on a knee in front of the small entourage, and Lyna was gripping hands with, and grinning widely at the tall figure in the center of them. Anders vaguely registered that he was the king, as was obvious by the ceremonial armor, but refrained from bowing, instead taking up a spot near the back next to the dwarf.

"You're late," Lyna admonished, hands dropping as she sent the king a mock scowl.

The benefits to being friends with him, Anders supposed.

King Alistair merely smiled sheepishly, glancing off to the side. "Yes well, I wish I could have gotten here sooner; I sort of miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing." He shook his head, and looked over the group. "I had wanted to come and give the Warden's a formal welcome. I was not expecting… this. What is the situation exactly?"

The man they had rescued stood and spoke for the first time. "What darkspawn that had remained have fled. The Grey Wardens who had arrived from Orlais appear to either be dead or… or are missing, your majesty."

"Missing?" The king's brows shot up, a confused laugh tumbling out. "As in taken by the darkspawn?" His gaze moved back down to Lyna. "Do they even do that?"

She sent him a silent shrug.

Anders wasn't sure if there even was an answer to that question.

Apparently neither did the man, though he was the only one to voice it. "I don't know, your majesty. All I do know is that we cannot account for all the Wardens that had been here."

The king made a noise in the back of his throat then focused on Lyna again. "And how about you, my friend? Not too badly hurt I hope?"

Lyna reached out to grip his hand again, smile firmly back in place. "I'm fine, Alistair." Her smile dimmed a bit. "Though this does make things harder."

He gave a nod, and moved his free hand to tuck a loose piece of her hair behind a pointed ear, a strangely intimate gesture that had Oghren rolling his eyes. "I'd join you if I could, but I think Eamonn would have a fit… though Anora might like having me out of the way." He trailed off in thought, before shaking his head and focusing again. "No, I'm afraid you're on your own for this one."

"Hey," Oghren shot out, brows creasing in annoyance, "what am I? Chopped nug liver?"

"You know, from the smell that's not a bad guess." Anders supplied helpfully.

The dwarf sent him a withering look before turning back to the others. "I came here to join the Grey Wardens, and from the looks of it you could use all the help you can get." He slapped his hands together in anticipation. "So where is the big cup already, I'll gargle and spit."

Lyna chuckled and turned to give a tug to one of the braids of his beard. "I would be honored to have you, Oghren, but no spitting."

"King Alistair!" A new voice rang out, and they all turned to watch a female Templar rush to the front of the group, her expression earnest. "Your Majesty. Beware! This man is a dangerous criminal."

The king scowled at her, a hand coming up to wave her off. "I know the dwarf is a bit of an ass, but I wouldn't…"

Anders cut him off with a cough, the always close feeling of being caught closing in on him. "She means me."

"This was an apostate that we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice."

His frown deepened, and he couldn't help but feed in, just slightly, to the annoyance that her words brought. "Please, the things you people know about justice could fit into a thimble. I'll just escape again anyhow."

He knew that he sounded bitter, but couldn't seem to help himself.

The Templar's face turned bright red with rage, and she thrust out a finger at him. "Never! I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer."

"Murderer? But those Templars were…" He sputtered it out then stopped, the anger in him turning instead to a cold acceptance. A gnawing hole where fairness use to be. "Never mind. There's no point. You won't believe me anyhow."

He dropped his head a moment, unwilling to look at the smug expression of satisfaction in front of him, though his gaze shot up when he felt a hand on his arm, and he locked eyes with Lyna, her own searching a moment before turning to Alistair and the Templar. "There is no proof that Anders killed those men, and he was extremely helpful when I needed him."

Her voice was firm, and he clung to the warm feeling in his chest that her words brought.

The Templar merely scoffed. "We shall see about it back at the Circle."

The two women stared at each other, and Alistair glanced between the two before letting out a sigh. "Well, there is little I can do about it, unless you have a better argument, Commander."

She flicked her gaze over to him a moment before speaking. "Yes, there is. I hereby conscript this mage into the Grey Wardens."

What?

"What?" It was the Templar who was sputtering now, new blotches of red forming as Lyna stared her down. "You can't do that."

"You can do that?" Anders stared down at where she stood, hand still resting on his arm.

"Yes, she can," Alistair supplied, and looking for the entire world as if he was swallowing a smile. "I believe the Wardens still retain the Right of Conscription, and I will allow it."

The Templar sputtered again, then took several deep breathes before offering a stilted bow. "If… if your majesty thinks it's best."

She turned and stalked back down the line.

Anders merely blinked.

He felt like he was doing that a lot lately.

"Me? A Grey Warden? I… I guess that will work."

Lyna squeezed his arm, once, before stepping away, and turning back to the king as he spoke again.

"Well… if everything is under control, I guess I have to take my leave."

"The estate has been secured, your Majesty. We have suffered losses, but the darkspawn are gone, and there are survivors. That is something," the man spoke up, stepping closer to them.

When Lyna and King Alistair simply stared at him curiously, he cleared his throat. "It seems I have forgotten my manners. I am Varel, seneschal of Vigil's Keep." He offered a bow to the pair before focusing on Lyna. "Thank you again for the timely rescue, Commander. I look forward to aiding you in ruling the lands of Amaranthine."

Lyna gave a shake of her head. "I don't think I would be very good at ruling anything. The Arling belongs to the Grey Wardens, not me."

Veral nodded in agreement. "Yes, but as commander of the Grey, you are the equivalent of our arlessa as well." He offered another bow and moved to step back. "I will go get things ready for the joining ritual. Come and find me when you are ready to begin it." With that he turned and walked away, Lyna staring after him.

"I hate that I have to ask you to do this, Lyna," the king began, but was cut off by her disbelieving snort. "No, Alistair, you just don't like that you can't stay here also."

"True enough, but at least I don't have to worry that it isn't in good hands."

He leaned down to place a light kiss on her forehead then started to turn away before she reached out a hand to stop him. "You haven't happened to hear anything…" She trailed off lamely, huffing out a breath as if she was annoyed with herself for asking.

The king stared at her a moment before shaking his head, face shuttering, and eyes growing cold. "No. No news from Antiva. I'll send word if that changes."

She gave a single nod before turning to head into the Keep, leaving the others to watch both her and the king's entourage go.


	4. Chapter 4

**So many thing!**

**I apologize for the loooooooooong break. Life happens way too often all at once. Work, and school, and opening an online store *Cough cough* shameless plug *cough cough* link in profile, and watching all the episodes of Doctor Who since 2005 to get my friends off my back (That show is just depressing! I don't understand why people love the depressing!), and getting back into WoW (Gideon Emory voices Loth'Remar now. He does well with the posh elf :D)**

Anywho, I think no one cares what I have been doing in lue of writing, because I SHOULD have been writing, you are absolutely right, and so I will move on.

I should be able to update regularly for the next few weeks, so there won't be so long a wait.

I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint!

**Enjoy!**

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"Pants."

"Pants that eat your eyeballs! After they are done with you they just… wander off on their unnatural pant legs."

Anders pressed the fist he had been holding into his mouth during Lyna and Oghren's conversation harder into his teeth, using the pinch of pain it gave as a way to keep from laughing. He must have made a noise though because Lyna shot him a look before turning back to the dwarf.

"Someone," another, more pointed look in his direction, "told you about a pants monster, and you believed him?"

Oghren blinked at the question, and glanced between the two. "Er… sod." He scowled and Anders heard a snicker slip past his knuckles. "Come on, I've been on the surface less than two years. I don't know what's up here!" His scowl deepened as he pushed up and away from the table the three were clustered around, grumbling under his breath. "That Jacobs is going to get it when I get my hands on him…"

They watched in silence as he left the mess hall before Anders finally let the laughter out, hands moving to grip his stomach as he did so.

Lyna merely stared at him, her mother expression well in place.

When he was able to catch his breath he waved his hands at her. "I didn't do it. You heard him, it was Jacobs." She raised an eyebrow at the statement, and he shifted in his seat. "I may have encouraged the idea, but can you blame me? Really? There is nothing to do around here, and the dwarf is easy."

She stared another moment, before letting a smile form. "Pants?"

He laughed again, and rolled a shrug. "It was funny."

She gave a hum of ascent before standing from the table herself. "Well, since you are so bored you can help me with clearing out the cellars, according to Sergeant Maverlies there are dark spawn trapped down there, and she worries that they might find their way out and up to us."

She turned to head out into the main hall even as he shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and stumbled up to chase after her. He was starting to get use to the way she worked, even after only two days. She had grieved when Mhairi had passed during the joining, and she had smiled and flattered when the nobles came the day before to offer their allegiance. She made a point to make sure he and the dwarf were settled and needed nothing, and she never ever waited for a reply when she asked someone to do something.

It was as if she just assumed they would do it, and it worked, because he had yet to see someone not completing what she asked of them.

He had caught up with her by the time they walked into the spill of sun that bathed the main courtyard, and Lyna took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders. "Well, let's go kill things then."

They turned in unison, and nearly ran over the soldier standing just behind them, one foot still on the bottom set of the stairs into the Keep. The blonde woman stumbled, and flitted her eyes between the two of them before offering a hasty bow to Lyna, words tumbling out in a rush. "Blimey, commander of the grey. Right. I was told to look for you."

Lyna offered a warm smile, and lifted then dropped her hands. "Well, it seems you found me, Private. What can I do for you?"

The woman bobbed her head again, and took a moment to straighten her stance. "Right. Awhile back, they caught a thief at the Vigil. Took four warden to capture him. He even gave one of the Wardens a black eye, he did. Can you imagine? They even joked that he would make a good recruit."

Lyna listened to the half ramble then tilted her head in question. "Where is he now?"

"In the dungeon, ser. We would have told you of him sooner, but with everything going on I think he got lost in the shuffle. I also have letters for you; they arrived just before you did. Just got sorted, and I said I would deliver them."

"That makes sense." Anders swallowed a laugh at the almost placating tone, and watched as the woman fumbled at her belt pouch a moment before passed over a bundle of letters. Offering another short bow she turned and disappeared up the stairs.

They stood a moment in the sunshine, Lyna sorting through the short stack, before pausing at one. It was plain save for a single flowing word across the front that he couldn't read without becoming too obvious in his staring. Instead he turned to survey the few people moving around as he heard parchment being ripped, and unfolded, hoping to give off an air of disinterest that he didn't feel.

Another handful of moments passed before he heard her move again, and looked back. Her face was tensed in a frown as she pushed the stack into a pouch. She stared at the ground a moment, and he took a hesitant step forward. "Is everything alright, commander?"

She blinked up at him, and shook her head as if to clear it. Finally, she let out a short laugh. "I was just reflecting on the fact that someone can say so much, and not really say anything at all." She shook her head again, a small smile crossing her face though the cracks were there if anyone cared to look close enough. "It doesn't matter at the moment. We have a prisoner to see."

They made their way into the dungeon, and nodded a greeting to the guard at the desk. Waiting as he made his way over, Anders stared through the bars at the thief where he sat on the ground near the back of the cell they had placed him in. From this distance it was hard to make out more than a fall of black hair, and a rather impressive nose, but there was no mistaking the scowl that followed where the commander moved.

Anders had the stray thought that wars would go a lot faster if people could simply kill with the looks they leveled at others.

"It's good you are here, commander." The guard offered a short nod to them both before turning to indicate the occupied cell. "This one's been locked up for three days now. Good men died while this one was protected in his cell." The words dripped with contempt, and Anders rolled his eyes at the man's back. He understood that the soldiers were upset about their lost friends, but he saw no point in blaming a man for being locked up and unable to die himself.

Lyna for her part, studied the man in the cell, her head tilted in thought. She scratched her chin with a finger, and shot a glance to the guard. "Who is he?"

"He won't give his name. All I know is that he was caught poking around the estate in the middle of the night. I'd say he's just a thief, but it took four Grey Wardens to capture him." He glanced down at Lyna, obviously taking in her diminutive stature. "You best be careful. Whatever he is, he's no ordinary burglar, that's for sure."

Lyna shot Anders a wink before smiling brightly up at the guard. "I appreciate the advice. If you don't mind, we should probably talk to him alone."

Another nod, and the man stepped back. "As you wish, commander. I'll tell the seneschal that you came. He'll want to know what you decide to do with this man." He turned on his heels, and disappeared up the stairs, leaving them alone in the dank.

Lyna ushered him to her side, then moved to unhook the latch on the cell door. She pulled it open and they both waited in silence as the thief stood and made his way closer to them, a sneer taking the place of his scowl. "If it isn't the great hero, conqueror of the Blight and vanquisher of all evil." He stared down at the commander, clearly unimpressed. "Aren't you supposed to be ten feet tall? With lightning bolts coming out of your eyes?"

Lyna tilted her head, arms folding over her chest, and then raised a brow, bland amusement dancing across her face. "Are you trying to insult me?"

The scowl deepened, and he dragged his gaze down to her feet then back up. "Somehow I just thought that my father's murderer would be… more impressive." He met her eyes again, crossing his arms in a mirrored pose of hers. "I am Nathaniel Howe. My family owned these lands until you showed up. Do you even remember my father?"

"Arl Howe was a traitor." There was no malice in the words, but Anders was still surprised by the bluntness of it, and apparently Howe was just as taken aback, his face clearing to blankness for a moment before flushing with anger.

"My father served the Hero of River Dane, and fought against the Orleasians. Yet our family lost everything!" The words with clipped, and nearly shouted. "I came here…" and then the anger died as suddenly as it came, leaving his voice raw, and weak as he glanced away. "I thought I was going to try and kill you. To lay a trap for you, but then I realized I just wanted to reclaim some of my families things." He looked back at her then, eyes dark. "It's all I have left."

She studied him another moment, head still tilted, and face carefully blank. "How much do you know about your father, Nathaniel?"

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, glancing between her and Anders before replying. "If you're asking whether I knew what he was up to… the answer is no. I was squired in the Free Marches. Look, I know you're a hero. You fought a war, and you won, and to the victor go the spoils, right? But what my father did shouldn't harm my whole family. The Howe's are pariahs now." His expression turned sardonic, and he gave a humorless laugh. "Those of us left. It's all up to you. And now you get to decide my fate. Ironic, isn't it?"

Anders glanced to Lyna, and noted the same contemplative look that she had given him the night of the attack, when the Templar had wanted to take him back to the Circle. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning. She finally shifted to move to the desk, and pushed herself up to sit on the ledge of it, indicating the seat beside her and gesturing for Anders to take it, which he did, and then to one across from them that she waited for Nathaniel to sit down in. Apparently they were going for the relaxed approach. Finally, she focused back on the conversation. "Do you really hate me so much?"

"The dark spawn are a menace. If it weren't for the Blight, maybe my father would never have…" He faltered, and glanced down at his lap. "Done what he did." Face hardening again he looked back up to them, some of the heat coming back into his words. "But I can't do anything about them, can I? There's just you and the Grey Wardens here in my home."

"Then maybe you should redeem your name."

Anders and Howe both blinked at her, and the latter seemed at a loss for a moment before a sneer curled his lip, and he spoke with dripping sarcasm. "You're right. I'll go join King Alistair's service immediately. He'd be certain to give a Howe another chance."

She ignored the statement, and rested her arms on her knees, head tilting again. "What will you do if I let you go?"

Anders blinked again, as did Howe. Apparently the elf had lost her mind. He wondered if she made a habit of freeing others from imprisonment, or if she simply had some weird obsession with criminals.

"If you let me go? I… I don't know. I only came back to Ferelden a month ago." He scowled again, clearly not trusting her. "If you let me go, I'll probably just come back here. You might not catch me next time."

For some reason she laughed, a short friendly burst of noise that shattered the silence in the room with sudden brightness. Definitely unstable, then. "You aren't making the best case for yourself."

"I could lie if you prefer."

She shook her head, a wide smile still in place. "No, of course not. I always appreciate honesty. So… I understand that we had some trouble capturing you."

Howe frowned at the statement, expression unsure. Anders nearly laughed himself, finally catching on to where she was going with this. Though he didn't think it made her less out of her mind.

"I am not without skill. My time abroad wasn't spent chasing skirts and drinking wine."

"And glad I am to hear it. What skills are those exactly?"

The frown remained, but he answered readily enough. "Hunting, scouting, poisons. Why? What do you care?"

She ignored the question, and continued to smile as she hopped from the desk, hands reaching down to brush off her leather skirts. "I've decided what I want to do. Stay here a moment." She didn't bother putting Howe back in the cell before turning too bound up the stairs, leaving the two men in sudden quiet.

They stared at each other a moment before Anders offered his own wide smile. "She does that a lot."

Howe merely scowled and looked away.

Lyna returned several moments later, the guard and seneschal Varel in tow. They spread themselves in a row before the chairs, and Lyna gave a nod in Howe's direction. "Did you know this was Nathaniel Howe?"

"A Howe?" Varel's eyebrow's dropped low over his eyes. "It figures that they would turn up again. The Howe's are implacable enemies, Commander."

She nodded, and glanced to Anders again before speaking. "Even so, they appear to be good fighters as well. I wish to invoke the Right of Conscription."

"You what?" The words were sputtered out by the topic of their discussion, disbelief evident. Anders bit back another laugh, remembering his own similar response.

"I'm sorry, commander." The seneschal sputtered a bit as well. "The Right of Conscription? On the prisoner?"

Howe pushed roughly from his chair, taking a step toward the others even as he waved a hand in curt dismissal. "No! Absolutely not! Hang me first!"

Lyna cocked a brow. "You don't think this is better than dying?"

He stared down at her a moment before offering a sneering smile, and folding his arms over his chest. "Hard to say. You like having Grey Wardens who want you dead?"

She surprised them, yet again, with a bright laugh, and waved a hand in dismissal of the statement. "Some of my best friends have wanted me dead, and they got a fair sight closer then you."

"I think, commander that you are insane, and I am not sure if this is supposed to be a vote of confidence or punishment."

She beamed at him, and reached out to slap his arm good-naturedly. "Finding out is part of the fun. Come on, let's see if you survive the Joining."


End file.
